The Last Secret
by WeasleySeeker
Summary: When Ron returns from Auror training camp, he and Hermione decide to return to one of their favourite old pastimes: telling secrets. At first, Ron thinks that there are no more secrets to tell, but then he realises that there's one last horror of the war that he's never talked about to anyone, even Hermione.


**A/N: Written for Rochelle as part of the Gift-Giving Extravaganza. I hope you like it! :)**

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"Ron?"

"Hm?"

"I'm glad you're back," Hermione told him, and Ron grinned up at the stars that were shimmering above them.

"I'm glad, too," he agreed truthfully. Earlier that day, Hermione had organised a party to celebrate Ron's graduation from the three-year Auror training programme, which Harry had finished the year before. It was a lovely thought, and it had been nice to see all of their friends from Hogwarts again, but he had to admit that after enduring the final three-month training camp with very little time off, he'd spent all day yearning for a moment alone with his girlfriend. It had been a very long time since they'd had the opportunity to lie side by side and gaze up at the night sky together, and now that it was here, it was absolute bliss.

"Maybe we'll be able to do this more often now that you've finished," Hermione suggested, and Ron could hear the same longing he felt, echoed in her voice. "We used to all the time, do you remember?"

Ron didn't think he could ever forget the nights they spent together immediately after the war, while Hermione was staying at the Burrow. When everybody else was asleep, they'd sneak out to lie together under the stars, just as they were doing now, and talk for hours on end. "Of course I do."

"What did we even find to talk about?"

"Dunno," Ron said, trying to think back. The days of that summer all blurred into one, and his time with Hermione was sort of an escape from the world; some things, like burying his brother, stuck out much more clearly. "Just... everything, I suppose. We never really had to try, did we?"

But Hermione shook her head. "I know. Secrets. We'd take it in turns, remember? I'd tell you a secret, and then you'd tell me one."

Ron laughed. "No point in doing that now, is there? We know everything about each other. There are no more secrets to tell."

"That can't be true," Hermione said. "I'm sure I can think of one. Not necessarily a _secret_, as such, but there must be some things I've never told you."

"Go on, then," Ron challenged, whilst racking his own brains to see if there was anything he could tell Hermione. There was one thing down there in the depths of his mind, something that he'd really rather forget, but maybe Hermione deserved to know it...

"Well, there's one thing I've never told anyone," Hermione began hesitantly, "but it's a bit embarrassing. It was when I was in primary school, and I never really had any friends. I've never worked out if it was because I never made the effort to get any, or because nobody liked me... anyway, it sometimes bothered me, and I once went into Mum's room to experiment with her make up to see if it would make me look cool. Then I borrowed a pair of her high heels but I tripped whilst trying to walk down the stairs and broke my ankle. I lied to everyone about how I did it, though."

Distracted as he was by his own secret, Ron's heart went out to young Hermione. "That's cute. Sad, though. I don't understand how anyone could not like you."

"You would say that," Hermione said, but Ron could tell that she was smiling, even though it was too dark to see. "But it's okay. I've got you now, and Harry and Ginny."

"Exactly, and those kids were obviously the ones missing out; I don't know what we'd do without you."

"Oh, stop it," Hermione said, but she was obviously pleased. It seemed that she had noticed Ron's discomfort, though, because there was a long pause before she said, hesitantly, "Your turn, then."

"What?"

"You have to tell me something now. If you can think of anything."

Ron took a deep breath. "I... yeah. There is something I never told you. It's about... the Horcrux. The locket."

They sat up now, and Ron lit his wand; a strange expression was written on Hermione's face. Perhaps because the subject of his confession was so different to hers, but also because they didn't talk about the war much - especially not this part of the war.

"When we got back, Harry told you that he told the locket to open and then I stabbed it and that was it. But... there was kind of more to it than that." His voice was sticking in his throat; this was one of the most disturbing things he had ever seen, and he'd never talked about it to anyone except for the few words he said to Harry in the immediate aftermath.

"Ron," Hermione said gently, her voice pained, "we don't have to talk about this now. It was just a silly idea, this secrets thing... it's your first night back - "

"No," Ron interrupted, firm. "Please," he added as it occurred to him that she might really not want to talk about it when she hadn't seen him for so long. He still dreamed about this, and maybe talking about it with her would help.

There was a long pause, and then Hermione nodded.

"Well, it opened, like Harry said," Ron began, "and then inside there was this eye. And I felt like Voldemort was staring right at me, into my mind. It spoke, told me how I was always second best, always overshadowed by Harry, how my mother just wanted a daughter and didn't give a toss about me."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said in a tearful voice.

"Then you and Harry came out, and..."

"We came out? Of the locket? What do you mean?"

"They were images of you that kind of grew out of the locket, it's hard to explain... and then you talked about how useless I am, how you were better off without me, and you said that nobody could possibly look at me next to Harry," Ron said quietly. "Then you and Harry... you kissed, and that's what finally made me get myself together and stab it."

Hermione was silent for a long moment. Then, "So, the locket kind of... got to know you, didn't it? Like Ginny and the diary. It knew exactly how to make you feel worthless."

"I suppose so," Ron said, slightly uncomfortable. He'd never liked talking about his insecurities.

There was a pause again, and although Ron was tempted to break it, he kept quiet; Hermione looked like she was trying to work out how to say something.

"I don't have a brother," she said finally, "but if I did, I think I'd love him like I love Harry. It's nothing like the way I feel about you. You know that, don't you?"

"I understand that _now_," Ron said; he had since come to the conclusion that he, too, loved Harry like another one of his brothers. "I just... forgot it sometimes."

"And the other things the locket said?" Hermione pressed. "You understand that those aren't true either?"

"I... yeah. 'Course I do."

"But sometimes you need reminding," Hermione said quietly. It wasn't a question. She knew him well enough to work out that even after being in a relationship for four years, when he'd been away from his friends and family for a long time, when things went wrong, when he had a bad day, it was easy for Ron to wonder why anyone, even Hermione, bothered with him at all. Sometimes he did still feel worthless.

Ron nodded; Hermione pulled him close and kissed him warmly and gently, and the familiar but distant feeling reminding him of those bittersweet days from early on in their relationship.

"I love you. You've never been second best for me, Ron," she told him, and although Ron felt his ears going red, it was good to hear.

"Thanks. Er... you too." Yet again, Ron cursed his ineloquence, but Hermione chuckled.

Lying down so that she was looking up at the stars once again, she sighed contentedly. "Let's stay out here all night."

"Hermione, you've got work tomorrow!" Ron protested. "You should get some sleep."

"Oh, don't be such a spoilsport," she said, making a face and then pulling Ron down so that he was lying down next to her again. "This is much more fun."

"Well, if that's what you're after..." Ron pulled Hermione in for a much more raunchy kiss and she pulled away, giggling.

"Hey, there'll be plenty of time for that _tomorrow_ night. Put your wand out. I want to enjoy the stars while we can still see them."

"Look who's being a spoilsport now," Ron complained, pretending to be annoyed with her, but he did as he was told and gazed up at the sky once more.

It was quite overwhelming, really, when he thought about it. The sheer number of stars in their galaxies, although they looked like just little twinkling points in the sky, must be huge. Everything was so _big_. It made Ron realise just how small and insignificant their lives were compared to everything that was out there.

Suddenly, Ron wished that he'd paid more attention in Astronomy lessons. He couldn't put a name to a single one of the glittering objects in the sky.

"Hermione?"

There was no answer, so Ron re-lit his wand to find Hermione curled up and breathing steadily, fast asleep.

He felt his face break into a smile. Hermione was adorable to watch when she slept, except when her chronic nightmares kicked in. But if she was feeling as peaceful as Ron was, there would be no nightmares tonight.

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**A/N: I feel the need to inform everyone that this is the first time I've written proper Romione (i.e. while they're in an established relationship) for SIX WHOLE MONTHS. OMG. So thank you to Rochelle for pointing this out as an issue, and I hope you all enjoyed my resolution of it. ;)**

**Also this idea was born from a headcanon request on Tumblr from Joanna, so I thought I'd just give her a shoutout! Here was her question: _"When did Ron finally talk to Hermione about what he saw in the locket?"_ Thank you for asking and getting me thinking about this, although the answer I gave originally was different to the events of this one-shot...**


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